The Surgeon and the Cowgirl (Harlequin American Romance)

by Heidi Hormel

  * * *

  JESSIE WATCHED PAYSON walk away, his shoulders tense. She knew that look.

  “Hey,” her sister said as she snapped her fingers in Jessie’s face. “Focus, woman. We’re going to be on national TV in T minus twenty.”

  “I know. I’m focused.”

  “Yeah, focused on gettin’ some.”

  “I am not. Shut up.” Had she just said that? She sound liked she was sixteen and fighting with her sister over whose shirt had the most fringe.

  “Sorry. I’m nervous, too. What were you talking with him about?”

  “The interview, of course.”

  “I bet they sent him to shut you up.”

  “I don’t think so. It’s his career.”

  “Just like it’s the future of Hope’s Ride and all of those kids.”

  “I know,” Jessie said, glaring at her sister as Molly bumped her in sympathy.

  “Payson and Desert Valley will be fine no matter what. They both can survive the fallout from any interview. And it was the hospital putting on the brakes that got us into this mess in the first place. But what about you and the kids? Hope’s Ride is hanging on by a thread. To get people to pry open their purses, you need to tug a bit on their heart strings, but more importantly, you have to make it appear like they’re fighting against a big soulless corporation and its minion...the minion being Payson.”

  “I thought you liked Payson.”

  “Like him? What does that have to do with anything?”

  “My God, did they steal your soul before or after you got fired?”

  “Very funny. They’re playing hardball and so you need to, too. You can’t get sentimental. This is war.”

  “I don’t think it’s—”

  “Jessie, I worked in this world. They take no prisoners. It’s win at all costs. Do you understand?” Lavonda’s dark eyes were locked on Jessie. Her sister’s petite frame vibrated with tension and intensity.

  “I get it. I need to follow the script, throw the hospital...and Payson...under the bus to save Hope’s Ride. I need to let everyone know that the big bad medical community only cares about making a lot of money, not about a program that really works, even if it may cost a little more than the conventional therapies. That’s what I’m supposed to say, right?”

  “You got it. Let’s go over it one more time before Payson comes back with the gummy worms.”

  “No. I need to walk Molly, then we’ll be ready.”

  Lavonda stared hard again and Jessie refused to look away. She would do what she needed to do, just like she’d always done.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “We understand that you’ve not had much cooperation from your local hospital, Desert Valley. Could you talk about that?” the anchor in New York asked Jessie.

  Here it was. The question. She could see Payson, Spence and Lavonda just behind the camera. She could do this. She used her brightest rodeo smile and said, “Desert Valley has been very supportive of our efforts. They’ve been working closely with us to ensure the program is providing the children with the best care possible. Before we were forced to close by the bank and mortgage company, the team from Desert Valley had made great progress in quantifying the achievements. Sorry. In plain English what I mean is that without the hospital, Hope’s Ride would not have been helping the children as well as we were. Once we get the money we need, then we’ll be back to working with the hospital’s team, and, most importantly, we’ll all be back to helping the children.”

  Jessie kept her eyes on the monitor with the picture of the studio in New York. She could guess what Lavonda’s expression was.

  The remainder of the interview went well with more questions about the children and questions from viewers via Twitter about Molly. The whole interview took less than five minutes, but sweat dribbled down Jessie’s back as if she’d done an entire trick-riding routine. She needed another shower and two pots of coffee to get back to normal after this workout.

  * * *

  EVERYONE WAS OVERLY polite as the film crew packed up and zipped away from the ranch. Jessie knew Lavonda was steaming. “Why did you ignore everything we rehearsed?” her sister asked flatly.

  “I couldn’t take the chance with Payson’s career,” Jessie said and felt Payson stir beside her.

  “What about you and all of those children?”

  “It didn’t feel right putting Payson on the chopping block for Hope’s Ride, plus it can’t hurt to stay on the hospital’s good side and to get their endorsement, right? Even you have to admit now that whether we blamed the hospital or the banks, Molly is what will get us the money. The tape they had of her even made me rethink the nasty names I called her yesterday when she stamped on my foot.”

  “That’s not the point,” Lavonda said. “We discussed a strategy and then you just did what you wanted. And why should you help him? What has he done but walk out on you? And, then, when you ask for help, he acts like he’s master of the universe, ordering you around. And he’s in it just for the title. You told me that.”

  “Wait a minute,” Spence broke in as Jessie opened her mouth. “Without my brother, your sister’s house would have been sold and her program would be closed.”

  “Anything that Jessie has is because of her work. She doesn’t need your family and their snooty help.”

  “I bet you’ll hit up my parents,” Spence said, leaning close to Lavonda, “and all of their pals for money. Who else is going to—”

  “Enough. The money doesn’t matter right now,” Payson cut in sharply. “Hope’s Ride needs to have the chance to be evaluated, to prove its merits to the medical community. Making a difference for these children is what we all need to be focused on.”

  Jessie had to double-check that it was really Payson standing beside her. This was the first time he’d given Hope’s Ride his full support. It wasn’t a full-on endorsement, but it was more than he’d said before. They weren’t out of the woods—or the cacti—but she relaxed a fraction, feeling hopeful. Her hand reached over to touch Payson’s arm, to let him know how much she appreciated his support.

  “What’s going on between you two?” Spence asked, his tone sharp and demanding. “I know you slept—”

  “We did not,” Jessie snapped. She felt Payson freeze, so she squeezed his arm. “Payson is invested in Hope’s Ride. After all, he’ll only get to be director if the program works. Now, let’s get the horses settled and ready for all of the donations.” Jessie glanced at Payson and gave him a rodeo smile before she strode off.

  What did they used to say on The X-Files? Plausible deniability. Neither Spence nor Lavonda knew anything for certain and it was going to stay that way. She didn’t want her parents finding out. Like they would have if she’d been pregnant—but she wasn’t, as she’d found out this morning. Time to focus on what was important in all of this. The interview was over. Payson’s job should be safe and Hope’s Ride would get the cash it needed. Until the money rolled in, she’d clean out stalls and check the corrals. Then she’d go get herself a big breakfast to celebrate.

  THAT’S MY COWGIRL, Payson said to himself, watching her purposefully walk away from them. He smiled, then saw Lavonda’s and Spence’s faces and rearranged his lips into a firm line. “Some of us have jobs where someone would miss us if we didn’t show up. See you later.” He didn’t slow when his brother called his name. He didn’t want or need a third degree from Spencer MacCormack, Esquire, which was exactly how his brother acted when he got that certain gleam in his eye. He’d ask questions that Payson really didn’t want to answer. Plus, he did have work at the hospital.

  After doing rounds and consulting on two cases, Payson headed back to his office for a little bit of paperwork. He drank his tenth cup of coffee and choked down a dried-out ham sandwich as he typed, but his brain wouldn’t stay focused. He kep
t seeing Jessie talking about the program this morning and standing up to her sister and his brother.

  There had been that parting shot about him being director... Nothing was ever simple. Without her, his life had been going so well. He made it to work on time and could stay as late as he wanted. At home, his cereal stayed exactly where he’d put it. He never ran out of Dr Pepper or cheese for his quesadillas because he wrote it on a list he kept posted on the refrigerator.

  He leaned back in his chair to stop the catalogue of pathetic reasons why his life was better without Jessie. That was superficial stuff. He knew that. He might be dense when it came to the emotional side of his life but not that dense. After that night at his condo and the next morning... No, not going there. Reliving that morning with her wouldn’t help him finish the notes on the three patients he needed to discharge today. Plus, they were divorced. There was no undoing that.

  His phone rang and he couldn’t stop the sigh of relief at the interruption. “Yes, Helen,” he said.

  “I have the director of The Children’s Hospital in Philadelphia on the line,” she said, her voice overly professional.

  “I don’t have any patients there, do I?” He’d had other hospitals call when one of “his” kids showed up.

  “Dr. Masterson said he would like to speak with you about Hope’s Ride.”

  He hadn’t realized that anyone beyond Desert Valley knew he worked with the program. Jessie certainly hadn’t mentioned him. “Put him through.”

  The phone clicked without another comment from Helen, and the Philadelphia surgeon came on the line.

  * * *

  PAYSON TURNED OFF the Range Rover and looked around the spaces between the ranch buildings for Jessie. He couldn’t believe that she’d be gone—it was only late afternoon. The woman worked harder than anyone else he knew, himself included. He got out of the SUV before he could think too hard about why he was here or what he would say. He looked down at his leather loafers as he walked across the dusty yard to the barn. He’d lived in Arizona his whole life and only owned one pair of cowboy boots, which he’d been given as a kid. Being bootless was a point of pride with him, probably a pointless point of pride. Jessie had teased him about it when they’d been young.

  Focus, man. He’d laid out his tasks on the drive over: find Jessie, let her know that the hospital was content with the coverage, check on the donations, congratulate her again, go home, have a beer and decide what the call from Philadelphia meant.

  “We’re closed...” Jessie said as she met him just outside the barn. “Sorry. Didn’t know you were coming out again. You didn’t call.”

  He stopped his knee-jerk reaction to her belligerent tone and instead said, “If I caught you at a bad time, I can come back.”

  “It’s fine. What do you need?”

  He could tell she was working hard to maintain a smile. “Do you mind if we go inside? It’ll be a little cooler.” She stepped into the not-quite-so-hot barn where, damn it, he could see her even better. The jeans, the tight shirt, the light dew of sweat at her neck—all of it hit him in the gut. He wanted to taste the salt of a day spent working the ranch, and he wanted to run his hands along her sleek muscles. He looked away and said, “I came by to let you know that the hospital is fine with this morning’s interview. Thank you. I don’t—”

  “I assume that means you won’t lose your job and will get that fancy new title.” She adjusted her stance, licked her lips and looked down. “If that’s all, I’ve got to get back to work. I need to finish the feeding, and then I’ve got some phone calls to make.”

  “I’ll help,” he said on impulse. “Not with the calls, but I can put hay in the stalls and...stuff.”

  Her gazed focused on him and her eyes narrowed. “What do you want now?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Nothing. Just to help. I’ve got the time.”

  She looked like she was going to say something else, but she shrugged and motioned for him to follow her. Her gait, not marred by her limp today, made her slim hips swing enticingly, and Payson reluctantly hurried to catch up with her. Helping Jessie didn’t mean that they would have a repeat of their morning together. In the old days, when he came out to “help” her, he usually had rolling in the hay on his mind. The only thing on his mind today was...well, not rolling in the hay. Obviously not. But, damn, her walk was sexy.

  * * *

  JESSIE COULD FEEL Payson keeping pace beside her, really close beside her, so she kept her gaze forward. She refused to believe that she was happy to see him.

  “Wait,” Payson said, putting his hand on her forearm. “I need to ask you something.”

  Jessie didn’t pull away. She looked at his hand and wondered why his touch felt different from anyone else’s. She pulled herself together and said, “Go ahead.”

  He slowly stepped away, and Jessie noted the tense angle of his head. He opened his mouth, closed it and then took two long strides away from her. “When you were at my condo and we—”

  “I’m not pregnant. That’s what you wanted to ask, right?” She couldn’t help her angry tone.

  He whirled to her. For just a split second, his chestnut-brown eyes closed before he calmly answered, “You’re certain? You took a test?”

  “Didn’t need a test.”

  “I see,” he said. “It’s for the best.”

  “Yes.”

  “A baby deserves two parents,” Payson went on.

  “Right, of course,” Jessie said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “It’s something. You have that look.”

  “I don’t think you’re right about a baby and two parents.” She knew her feelings about not being pregnant were irrational and tangled up with the miscarriage and the end of their marriage.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean if I had been pregnant, I would have raised the baby myself, and she would have been happy.”

  “I wouldn’t have let you do that,” Payson said firmly.

  “What do you mean you wouldn’t have let me?” she asked, her tone soft but steely.

  “If you had been pregnant, you would not have been alone. I would have been there, too, no matter what.”

  “You mean just like last time?”

  “I was there last time. You were the one who pushed me away. We talked about this,” he said, sounding frustrated and turning again from her. “It doesn’t matter because you’re not pregnant.”

  “You’re right. It doesn’t matter, but I am curious. You really think that you could be different this time?”

  “We’re older and wiser...I hope. We’d both treat a pregnancy very differently now.”

  Jessie nodded. If she’d been pregnant, she would have cherished every moment of morning sickness and every change in her body. “But I’m not pregnant,” she finally said.

  He stepped back to her, reached out and grasped her hand.

  She hadn’t realized that she needed the comfort of his touch. The warmth of his hand in hers made the stiffness of her posture relax.

  Payson tugged on Jessie’s hand, enfolding her in his arms. She didn’t resist. She laid her head on his shoulder, her lips against his neck.

  “I’m a little sad,” he whispered.

  “Me, too,” she whispered. “I know it would have been a disaster, but I...I don’t know what.”

  “We would have made it work because we know how precious a baby is.” He pulled her more firmly against him, rocking a little.

  Jessie didn’t want to move. She didn’t want the warmth of Payson’s arms to disappear. She finally felt safe and whole again. Why was it that only his arms provided that? Why did his gentleness and strength make her feel this way? She couldn’t answer that today. Her arms stayed clamped
around him as she burrowed farther into his embrace.

  “I need to get back to work,” she said but didn’t move.

  “I’m supposed to help with that,” he said, his voice rumbling through her chest.

  Step back, get a grip and stand on your own two feet, her brain urged her. She started to pull back and Payson’s arms tightened again.

  “Not yet,” he said into her hair. She relaxed again.

  Payson couldn’t name the mixture of regret, worry and panic that warmed the pit of his stomach. His lips brushed her hair as he took in her scent, trying to settle his mind. His body reacted swiftly as her hip grazed against him. Desire flashed through him, making his pulse pound. His mouth sought hers. The kiss deepened quickly, their tongues tangling, tasting, exploring. He pulled her more tightly into his grip. He wanted...more. He rocked his hips against hers.

  Jessie’s moan vibrated against his mouth and straight to his gut. His hand traveled up her body, cupping her breast, her perfect handful of a breast. His thumb brushed over the nipple pressed against all of the layers of cloth. Jessie nipped his lip and now he moaned. His other hand snaked up her back and held her head to his mouth, sealing their lips together.

  Then he yanked at her cowgirl shirt, pulling it from her pants. He had to touch her silky skin. His hand skimmed along her waist and back to her breast. He nibbled at her jaw as the contact of her skin against his palm ignited him. His hand found its way inside her bra and the puckered nipple scraped against his surgeon-sensitive fingertips. His hips thrust forward against her.

  Her hand pushed him back and he protested, then her clever fingers popped open the button on his jeans. He held his breath, then gasped at the first hiss of the zipper being lowered. More. More now. His chest heaved, trying to get the breath to tell her to not stop. A horse whinnied and another took up the call.

  Just enough blood got to his brain for him to think clearly. What the heck were they doing? His hips froze. He dropped his hand, took a final deep breath of her scent and stepped away. Get a grip on this, Payson. He took another step and turned. Emotions roared through him and urged him to go back to her, take her right here. In the eerie quiet, he heard the sound of the snaps of her shirt. Damn. He banished the picture of what she covered with her cowgirl shirt.